Between the lines
by a. loquita
Summary: “If things had happened differently… maybe this trip would have been about us getting together for the first time.”
1. Chapter 1

**Between the Lines**

**Part 1**

"Sam," he moans into my ear. The squeak of the springs below me is the only other sound in the room.

"Yes." I squeeze my eyes shut even tighter and I concentrate on the rhythm and the friction of Jack inside me. Hot, so very hot. "Don't stop. I'm almost–" Oh, God.

I drift for a few minutes enjoying the aftershocks through my body. Then I open my eyes.

Startled for a moment, I say, "Pete."

Damn it, I did it again. I move away from Pete, to the side of the bed, and curl up there. I don't want him to see the betrayal in my eyes.

"Wow, that was incredible," Pete says.

I don't set out determined to think about Jack while having sex with another man, it just happens sometimes. If I really work on it, force myself to only think about Pete, I get frustrated and I end up faking it just to get it over with. Whoever said that a woman's orgasm was cerebral, yeah, I'd like to Zat that person for being annoyingly right.

"Great," I say. Faking again.

I know this has to end. It isn't fair to Pete. He's done nothing wrong. He met a girl, fell in love, and asked that girl to marry him. I'm the one who deserves to be hurt at the end of this. But I somehow suspect Pete will suffer most, he has no idea what's coming. I hate that it this isn't fair to him.

Three days later, I'm in front of a house that any sane woman would've hugged and kissed her fiancé for buying. I break the news to Pete. Despite my guess that he had no idea it was coming, it seems he does and that surprises me. Am I that obvious?

The next two weeks seem to pass while I'm unaware of my surroundings. Like a deaf person near a lighthouse siren announcing a fog, I go about my work oblivious. I pretend I'm fine, spending most of my time tinkering in my lab. But I find it hard to concentrate enough to actually accomplish anything.

This last year has been one of the hardest I've ever known, probably the worst since my Mom died. First Janet, then Dad, then the shame of what I did to Pete, and it's all becoming amalgamated in my head and in my heart. I know that I'm holding on by a thread. But I haven't the faintest idea how to pull myself up and start to move on.

Problem is, part of me doesn't want to move on, part of me wants to wallow in this and give in to the shadows. I feel I deserve this. I'm worthy of punishment for things I have done and gotten away with. Karma is reprimanding me the way the Air Force should have.

It started late one night, and it should have only been that one night. But things happened, life happened, and I needed comfort again and again. I knew where I could find it and I knew that Jack wouldn't deny me. The thing with life is, it's always something. Every time you turn around, another pain, another loss, another nightmare to battle. Or maybe that's just my life? Maybe normal people don't have the repeating pattern that I seem to be stuck in.

I snuck into my superior officer's house in the dark. I slipped into Jack's bed and in that reckless action I set events into motion, things that I could not foresee at the time. If I really thought about it, I could count. Was it 8 times, or 10 times, or maybe 15? Does it matter? If it were only 8 does that make it any less wrong? In the beginning it didn't seem wrong, it seemed right. The clandestine affair was at first fulfilling and beautiful and perhaps that was the problem. If I'd woken on that first morning after, looked at him, and felt a rush of fear and guilt maybe it all would have worked out differently. The fear and guilt came, only they came much later. Perhaps too late. Eventually one day it destroyed any possibility of our personal relationship ever having a chance in the long-term.

As a response to my dishonorable mistake, I forced myself to date other people knowing that I had to do something to move on. But it never worked. I was in search of cover, evidence to prove I was with someone safe and by the book. In retrospect, it might have also been about seeking absolution. Perhaps I was trying to demonstrate to everyone, including myself, that I was a good girl.

I should have been strong enough to wait. I should have protected what Jack and I had until the day we could finally be together openly. But I was weak. I gave in to the need for him, the impatience I had in waiting, the longing for now, and not some distant time and place. I've made mistakes and I have paid dearly for them.

As time passed, Jack and I settled into another phase of our working relationship. We'd talk while in the mountain about mostly work related things. He would give me compliments on my leadership skills and command decisions from time to time. But there was, and continues to be, a disconnect. A coolness between us every day, every meeting, every time I meet his eyes.

When Janet was shot and killed, in that moment I was thinking of Jack. In the hours that followed, I was consumed with relief that he was alive. My guilt has only grown since because I have to live with the fact that it took me an hour before I let the knowledge of Janet's passing to finally sink in and allowed myself to cry for her. An hour I spent more worried about Jack than I had been in months or maybe years, and he wasn't even mine anymore. She was my best friend, like a sister to me, how could I have waited even 10 minutes to begin mourning her?

By the time my dad passed peacefully, I was not at peace beside him. He kept insisting that I could have all the things that I wanted. Yet, I knew a truth that he never did– I'm not worthy of the things I want. I wondered what Dad would think of me if he knew of my weaknesses, my mistakes.

"Carter?" Jack snaps his fingers in front of my face. I look up. I'd been so lost in thought and emotions that I'd completely forgotten the three guys were in my lab. I must have lost track of the conversation.

Daniel asks, "You OK, Sam?"

"Yeah, sorry, I must have…" I shake my head.

It is the last week in August and the Labor Day weekend is coming up. It's a time that Jack always takes off for a week and goes up to Minnesota. I suspect the conversation I missed has been about lures, fish, and Teal'c making suspicious inquires concerning what he has often deemed, "A rather tedious form of leisure."

I plaster a smile on my face to show the boys that all is normal. Sam isn't falling apart and they've got no reasons to worry. Carry on with the fishing conversation.

Days later, I'm at the cabin. Exactly how I ended up on the Labor Day fishing trip with the boys is unknown to me. So much of what happens lately is a blur. I half pay attention to conversations, and I likely agreed to this without even realizing what I was agreeing too.

We arrive at the cabin in the middle of the night, after a long, draining road trip. We unpack the car with the precision of a team who'd spent almost 8 years in the field together and then everyone falls into an exhausted sleep. Everyone except me, I spend most of the night like I had for the last month, tossing and turning, and when I did finally drift off, images woke me suddenly. Along with the images came twisted, terrible feelings.

I lay there until the sun starts to come up and then I creep through the cabin into the kitchen. I measure out the coffee and while it's brewing, I wander out on the back porch where I watch the angry reds and oranges of the sunrise fade into clear, bright blue sky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

I am on the back porch of Jack's cabin and I should feel something more than I am feeling. In the old days, thoughts of being here would've sent tingles through me. Now, I feel nothing.

I hear a noise from inside, a soft curse in Jack O'Neill's grumpy tone. I speculate that he probably tripped on something and stubbed a toe. The image I conjure makes me smile despite myself. How can the man be so graceful and fluid with his movements in the field but so clumsy in his down time? Granted, we'd left suitcases, groceries, and supplies all over the cabin's main room last night. Too tired to unpack anything, we decided to leave it all for the morning.

"Carter," he joins me, handing over a mug of coffee and he takes a sip from his own. "Sleep well?"

"Sure," I say, though it's a lie. I really don't want them to know, but especially Jack. It's hard being here with him. This is a place we used to whisper about in the dark. My heart tugs and I have to look away from him now, before I allow him to see too much in my eyes. "I wanted to watch the sunrise, Sir."

Jack gazes out at the trees and lake. I wonder if he's also remembering those long ago whispered promises. Probably not, I decide. He's obviously over us, it's only me that can't seem to let it go. I'm the one haunted by the fading pattern of his lips on my skin.

I realize that I've not only been grieving Janet and my dad, but Jack too. I threw myself into maintaining a professional relationship with him. I forced myself on the dating scene as a way to forget. But here at the cabin with Jack I can't hide the loss any longer. Tears gather and I sniff them back.

Jack digs a Kleenex out of the pocket of his pajamas. He hands it over, then he casually drops and arm around me. Lightly, not the way he used to when we were lovers. Now it's soft, fleeting, always. A reminder that he's here for me as a friend, nothing more.

Jack says softly, "Dad would've loved this place, I'll bet."

I know he assumes my tears are over the recent loss of my father. It is probably part of the reason Jack has arranged this little trip for all of us. They are all mourning my dad just as much as I am. So often over the years we were a 5-member team. Sometimes I forget that, and how much Jack, Daniel, and Teal'c liked and respected my dad.

As the day progresses Jack's mantra becomes, "Let's not dwell." It's his response to everything. Teal'c has a comment about bugs being much more problematic in this particular part of our planet. I slip and say that we should have done this years ago. Daniel teases Jack about burnt steaks. "Let's not dwell."

Later that evening, Jack finds me again. Daniel and Teal'c are still playing 'Battleship' in the corner and I'm in front of the fireplace, supposedly reading a scientific journal I brought with me. But the words on the page aren't really sticking and I find myself reading the same passage again. It's rare that science doesn't give me an escape.

I give up when Jack settles himself on the floor next to me, back against the sofa and legs stretched out in front of him. "Comfy?" he asks, I'm sure wondering why I prefer the floor.

He's been seeking out these moments all day, just the two of us. It makes me uncomfortable because being close to him, smelling his aftershave and feeling the warmth radiate from his body overloads my senses. I still cannot fight the feelings that I have for this man, even after everything we've been through.

I came here believing it was a team thing. That I would have safety in numbers to protect me, shield me. But Jack's not playing along, keeping distance, as he should. He's being far too much like…like it was before.

I take a breath, exhaling before saying, "Yeah, I'm good. Who's winning?" I refer to the game.

"I'm out, totally sunk." Jack throws over his shoulder, loud enough for the guys to hear, "And I go on record saying that I suspect Teal'c of cheating."

I give Jack a crooked smile. "Sorry," I offer.

"S'ok."

We sit for a while facing the fire, watching the sparks that flash and then die.

"It's kind of ironic," Jack finally says. I look up so he knows I'm listening. He gives a little shrug. "Ya know, we finally defeated all the bad guys, the Pete thing, plus you're no longer under my command…"

I wonder where this is going. Does he want to talk about the transfer to Washington that I'm positive he's having mixed feelings about? It's also the first time he's mentioned Pete since I broke up with him, and I'm not sure how to take it. Jack trails off as if I'm supposed to understand. Usually, I get O'Neill-speak immediately but this one confuses me. I have no idea and it must be obvious on my face because he fills in the blank.

"If things had happened differently… maybe this trip would have been about us getting together for the first time."

His comment is said so casually that it almost compounds the pain that slams into me. Blame. He's laying the blame on me and I never would have expected that from Jack. Anger or cold detachment, those would've been perfectly his MO. But to blame me?

I blame myself, of course, for my weakness, my inability to wait for the perfect moment. But for him to also… I can't hold it back anymore; all the pretending that everything is OK shatters.

"What?" I ask. Anger bubbles up inside me, and that's good because it's masking the anguish. I scramble to my feet, unable to think of what I should say or do next. "How could you…"

I suddenly feel the need to get out, get away, hide. I should've never come here. I can feel the tears coming and I know I cannot fight them this time. I used to turn to Jack in my worst moments, but now I can't face him while this happens, so I run. Out the front door, I run blindly out into the night.

The tears are clouding my eyes so much that I can't see where I'm going. Tree branches and bushes whip my arms and face, but I hardly register them. The pain inside is far worse than anything my body could feel.

In the distance, I hear Jack calling my name. I stumble, tripping over something and land hard. His voice gets closer.

"Damn it, Carter, what the hell?" He reaches a hand under my upper arm and yanks me up. "Are you all right?"

I'm sobbing uncontrollably now, gasping for air, my whole body is aching but it's not from the fall. Jack's arms come around me, tight. Not like the loose friendly stuff of the last few years. No, this is a fierce hug, holding on to me as if the world is ending again.

I realize after a while that I've soaked the shoulder of his T-shirt. Neither of us left the cabin prepared to face the cool night air. But I'm the one that's shivering. My tears subside, my breathing becomes hiccups, and I start to register the sounds and sensations around me.

Jack has one arm around my waist, holding my body tight against his own. The other hand is caressing my back. His lips are against my ear and he is whispering things. Mostly nonsensical shushing, with a few "I know," and "I'm sorry," thrown in.

I go still against him and Jack stops all movements and words. I can read his mind, he believes I'm about to pull away, because that's my MO. I don't lift my head from where it was resting on his shoulder. I don't move away. I say to him, "I'm sorry too."

"What for?" Jack asks.

He sounds surprised and it throws me. One minute he blames me, then he's mad, and the next he can't understand what I could possibly be sorry for? Maybe the dash through the woods clouded his short-term memory?

"I messed up," I state plainly. "I was the one that was supposed to keep us in check."

"Carter," he sighs heavily. "It wasn't your fault. That's not what I was trying to say. I was... wishing."

I bury my head in the V between his neck and shoulder. I breathe in his scent, as well as relish his arms surrounding me. Just like in the days when we stole our moments, it brings me comfort in a way that nothing else can.

"Wishing," I repeat his word. It is an interesting one. Jack O'Neill is a man of few words but they are often carefully crafted.

"Yeah, wishing," he sounds off somehow. He steps back from me, only slightly. "You're freezing. We should get back inside." I hesitate. There are still so many things left unsaid and I'm afraid of losing the moment. He acknowledges, "I know, but I don't want you to freeze. Come on."

We enter the cabin and Daniel looks up at us. "Everything OK?"

"Peachy," Jack says. But Daniel is focused on me, as if only my answer will do.

"I'm fine, Daniel," I reassure. "I'm sorry I scared you guys, I just needed to…" I take a shuttering breath. "I'm OK." Daniel seems relieved and Teal'c bows his head slightly in understanding.

"Carter's gonna get some rest now." Jack takes my hand and tugs me toward the guest room. He seems to waver for a moment, then adds for the guy's sake, "I'm going to read her a bedtime story."

Daniel squints but neither of them say anything and I don't either. I can't speak when my mouth goes dry.


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

In the quiet of the bedroom, Jack hands me the pajamas that were lying on the chair. "Get changed and under the blankets. I'll be right back."

I'm puzzled, but I follow orders. A few minutes later he returns. He's changed his tear-dampened T-shirt to a dry one and is without shoes, but still wearing jeans. He switches off the light, moves to the bed and climbs in.

Jack pulls me close to his side in the moonlight. It's been forever since it's been like this, safe and nostalgic.

"There. Much better," he states. "We were always better like this."

"Were we?"

"Sure," Jack says. "Did you think the sex part was the only thing I liked?" I'm stunned to silence. I didn't expect him to be this open about it. We never seem to address the fact that we have a history.

"Sam, come on. The talking was good too; it was nice. I miss that part."

He's right. The one thing that we always did was lay there in the dark and talk about the things we never discussed as subordinate and commanding officer. I realize that I've been mourning, lonely, confused, and the one person who always seemed to help get me through things like that, is the one I haven't been able to turn to.

"I miss it too," I admit, finally acknowledging the biggest part of my problem lately.

"I miss us," he says quietly, as if he's an abused puppy fully expecting to be kicked again. "But you know that."

"No, I didn't," I say. "I figured by now you'd… well, I haven't been exactly…" I can't seem to figure out the right way to have this conversation. I didn't expect it, so I'm totally unprepared.

"Look, Carter, I just wanted to say I've been worried about you, and I guess I… we can talk in the dark like we used to."

Lost puppy behavior. He's wishing he could take back what he said because he expects me to reject him. Again. I don't know which will take longer– Jack ever learning to trust me again, or me letting go of the guilt I have for hurting him.

"I'm sorry, Jack, for everything. For not waiting. For being with Pete. For what we've lost, Janet and Dad, and I–"

"Whoa," Jack cuts me off, "you're blaming yourself for all of that?" I sit up a little so I can look him in the eye, but I don't answer.

"Damn it, Carter, that's just plain stupid."

I'm in shock; I can't remember the last time someone called me that. "Stupid?"

"Yeah, well, for someone as brilliant as you are, I wouldn't have expected it." He's angry and grumbling. I wish he'd go back to the soft Jack from a moment ago; I could get lost in that, in his comfort.

"Carter," he rubs a hand over his face in frustration. "I swear to you that I don't blame you. It happened between us and because it wasn't supposed to… Look, I understand the Pete thing. I don't like the guy but I understand it. And Janet and your dad… Sam, these things happen, you know that."

"I do, but I can't help but feel…"

"Guilty," he finishes. "You always make yourself feel guilty. You know something? You, Samantha Carter, are not perfect."

I stare at him blankly.

"You're not," he repeats, "and you have to stop trying to be. You'll make yourself crazy and you're making me crazy. You are not perfect."

"I know that," I say.

"No, you don't."

I'm getting as angry with him as he is with me. "Of course I do. Damn it, Jack. First, I'm stupid, and now I can't figure out that it's impossible for a person to be perfect."

"Not just anyone, you." He's really on a roll now, growling at me in his most pissed off commander voice. "You expect too much of yourself. You couldn't save your Dad or Janet. You liked having sex with me even though you knew it was against the rules. So you went out and got a rebound guy. All of it adds up to one thing– you have weaknesses. Like the rest of us, you make mistakes and you're not perfect. Get over it."

I move to get up off the bed.

"Oh, no you don't." He grabs my arm and waist, and drags me onto the bed flat on my back. He holds me down as I struggle against him.

"Let go of me," I say, angrily.

"No."

I could make a move and flip him, but I don't. He knows I could if I wanted to. But I don't do it because this is about him choosing to let me go.

"Jack, I told you to let go of me."

"Not until you admit it."

"Admit what?" I don't think I've ever been this burning angry in my life. "I said I'm not perfect."

"I don't believe you," Jack growls.

"I'm not perfect," I snap at him, "because I never stopped loving you even though I was supposed to."

Oops. Where did that come from?

By the way his face drops and looks suddenly tired, I'm certain he's as stunned by my revelation as I am. In all the time we were together, in all the things we've been through, I've never said the words aloud. I'm certain Jack must have known, at least at some point. But now he looks at me as if his world has turned upside down and he's about to throw up.

I didn't expect this, but now that it's out, I might as well run with it.

"I was in love with you," I repeat, softer this time, still not wanting to think about why I'm putting more emphasis on the past than the present. "Maybe you're right, I expected things between us would be perfect. I'm not perfect but _we _should've been."

Jack goes perfectly still for a moment. Just looking at me, thinking. Then he places a feather-light kiss on my forehead and another on my cheek. "Oh, Sam." He says it like a man who's finally found land after years of being lost at sea. He places more kisses along my jaw and down my neck. "You have to know."

"Jack." I do know, but I'm starting to wonder if we've spent too much time relying on not having to say things.

"I'm sorry too." His hands move to cup my face. "So sorry. Please don't blame yourself. I'm the idiot, self-centered bastard in this relationship. We've both always known that."

"I don't deserve..." I shake my head. "I never wanted to hurt you."

"And you think I've ever deserved you? What is a relationship, if not two people who both think they're getting the better end of the deal?"

I smile a little at that. "We need to talk, Jack."

"I know." He moves over and lies down next to me, staring up at the ceiling. "I'm here all week. How about you?" he quips.

I don't answer verbally, instead I take his hand in mine as a peace offering. He squeezes three times. Neither of us have ever spoken about what those three squeezes meant, but we've been doing it for years, long before I ever entered his bedroom that first time. I assume he believes it stands for the same three words that I believe it does. The thing is, we're so damn good at not saying them.

We lie for a while, bodies touching but not really moving or talking. Just drawing comfort from being close to each other. Jack sighs deeply. I'm suddenly drained of energy; the battle we've been though has taken everything out of me in a way that physical combat never does.

He must feel the same because he asks, "Are we OK enough to get some sleep? Deal with the rest tomorrow?"

I nod, "We're OK."

"I can go." But he looks like he really doesn't want to, even as he shifts to get up off the bed.

"No, stay here."

"Sure?"

I reach my arms out to him. He looses the jeans and joins me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

The next morning, I sleep late. I haven't had a full night's rest in God knows how long. But now, suddenly, I'm the sleeping goddess. The romantic in me would point toward Jack O'Neill being back in my bed as the reason. But the pragmatic Colonel Carter suspects it has much more to do with finally starting to deal with and let go of things that have been troubling my conscious for far too long.

I get out of bed and consider getting dressed but then decide that I'm on vacation and if I want to stay in my pajamas all day then so be it. I enter the main room and the boys instantly halt their conversation.

They were obviously talking about me, and I can understand it from their point of view. With my armor slipping last night, Daniel and Teal'c now know something's wrong, maybe even more wrong than just my dad. The race through the woods followed by our shutting ourselves up in the bedroom tells them that Jack might have some insider info about what's going on with me. I wonder briefly how much of our shouting last night they overheard, and how much Jack has told them this morning.

Daniel and Teal'c never knew what happened between Jack and me, or at least I'm pretty sure they didn't. I never told them and I'm certain Jack never did either. But I wonder if they ever suspected? Our behavior at times must have been… interesting, to say the least.

Even more interesting now, as they must know Jack and I slept in the same bed overnight. Do Daniel and Teal'c assume we made love for the first time last night? Or do they have any clue that it's completely the other way around? Last night's touches and kisses were fleeting and nothing compared to the heat we've shared in the past.

"Morning," I say as I come into the room. All three pairs of eyes are on me, following along as I walk over to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup.

They are studying me, trying to assess my mental state. They still haven't resumed their conversation.

"Please," I say sweetly, "don't let me interrupt. Carry on with whatever it was you were talking about."

Daniel is the only one with the decency to look guilty. Jack and Teal'c, on the other hand, have matching stoic expressions.

Teal'c asks, "How are you feeling this morning, Samantha Carter?"

I give him a hint of a smile. Of course, Teal'c would be the one brave enough to ask the question they're all thinking.

I say, "You know something? I feel pretty good." As an afterthought I add, "Well, considering."

His lips curl ever so slightly. "I am most relieved to hear that."

I decide to steer the subject to other, safer topics, at least for the moment anyway. "So, what do you think, Jack, another round of fishing today?"

"Jack?" Daniel repeats, flabbergasted.

OK, maybe I didn't change the subject effectively after all. Daniel's eyes shoot to Jack's, not mine. That surprises me. I expected Daniel to believe he'd have an easier time getting information out of _me_.

Jack says in a warning tone, "Daniel." The one that's forever telling Daniel not to say or do whatever it is that he's about to say or do.

"But, Jack," Daniel puts heavy emphasis on the use of his first name, "I thought you said last night nothing–"

"Daniel," he barks it this time, all the while keeping his eyes on mine. Jack is silently asking me for help, permission, or a gun, I'm not sure which.

Well, if I didn't suspect earlier, I certainly have evidence now. There was a conversation about me and it definitely included a component of Jack. I decide this whole thing needs to be handled in a completely different way: Jack can handle Teal'c and I'll take Daniel.

I turn to Teal'c. "Maybe you and Colonel O'Neill can start baiting hooks? Daniel and I will join you soon."

Daniel waits until they leave then he sits down at the table next to me. I'm not even sure where to begin. So I ask, "What did Jack tell you?"

Daniel does a grouchy version of Jack. "Whatever it is that your little imaginations are imagining right now… you're way off. And no, I don't want to talk about it, Daniel."

It's hard not to be at least a little amused. "He didn't lie, Daniel. I'm pretty sure it's not what you think."

"Look, all I know is that you're going through something, I think it's something on top of losing Jacob. What I can't tell is… is Jack helping or hurting?"

"He's not hurting."

"He's not making you happy either."

I inhale sharply and stand up, moving away from Daniel. I need a little space for a moment. Daniel senses that and stays put. I'm not sure I can handle the amount of sympathy and support coming from him right now. I take a few steps over to the little window and look outside.

Jack and Teal'c are on the dock with fishing lines in the water already. If ever something defined the differences between the sort of people that Daniel and Teal'c are, this moment is it. Out there, a conversation took place that lasted maybe 30 seconds before the two fell into companionable silence. In here, the same conversation was going to take at least an hour.

I wonder, not for the first time in all these years, if I should open up and really talk about everything that happened. I contemplate if I should tell Daniel all of it. Hash out every detail, for his sake and for my own. There was, after all, a part of this that he had unknowingly caused. The second time I came to Jack when I shouldn't have was after Daniel ascended. Not that I'm laying blame for my own mistakes, but it is a piece of the whole puzzle. I was hurting and I went to Jack. Simple as that.

I turn around to face Daniel again and lean back against the edge of the kitchen counter. His eyes meet mine, waiting.

"It's not…. Daniel, it's not his job to make me happy. I am going through something and Jack… Well, he's listening."

"And this is something that I can't help you with? Teal'c either?"

"It's about Jack and me."

"Ah," Daniel's eyebrows went up, not in surprise but in the 'now we're getting somewhere' fashion. "Hence the sudden throwing around 'Jack' instead of 'sir' constantly."

I almost smile at that. But it also gives me a good opening. "Not the first time I've said it, just the first time I've said it around other people." I look down and study my bare feet for a moment.

I never really counted the first time I came over in the middle of the night to my CO's house, that one was a fluke. If that one time had been all it ever was, all that ever happened, we wouldn't be here like this. No, it was the second time that did it, when I was mourning the Daniel's loss and fighting fears from Jack's suicide mission of flying the Gate into space. That second time made it a recurrence and sealed our fate.

I take a breath and look up at Daniel. "After you ascended, things happened… it became different between Jack and me."

He seems stunned for a moment, but it's just a flash. It doesn't take more than a second before he nods. It must have been that easy, simple to accept. He asks, "Different good or different bad?"

"That's a good question. One of the many that still remain."

Daniel must be thinking about Pete because he says, "And then somewhere along the line, things became un-different?" I smile at him despite the nature of this conversation. I can't help it; this man with multiple degrees making up such a ridiculous sounding word is funny to me.

"Hey, you started it," Daniel points out in response to my smile. "I'm just running with it. And believe me, I don't mind talking about this subject in euphemisms. Normally I'm fine, but when it's you and Jack we're talking about…"

"Un-different," I repeat.

"I'm guessing that's about the time Pete showed up on the scene."

"Yes." Suddenly, it all comes out of me like I burst a pipe. "God, Daniel, I've make so many mistakes. But he acts like… like it's all water under the bridge and just come back to his open and waiting arms. I hurt him. No matter what he says, I know he's hurting. I don't know what do about that. I don't even know where to begin to earn his forgiveness, let alone forgive myself."

Daniel concludes, "You blame yourself for breaking the rules."

"Jack thinks I believe that I'm supposed to be perfect and that I can't forgive myself for making a mistake."

"Is that true?"

"It's just… I always thought he and I would be perfect, and when it wasn't, I thought… I don't know what I thought."

"It's a relationship with Jack," Daniel says. "It was outside the rules then and anyway it's destined to be anything but perfect. Sam, come on, you can't seriously–"

"I think I built it all up in my head," I acknowledge. "We didn't start under the best of circumstances, but still. All that waiting and anticipating, and it seemed like after all of that it had to be…" I hesitate and then say flatly, "Perfect." Because I just can't find another word for it.

"And yet, it's a relationship, just like the rest of us mere mortals have." He smiles at that. "It's going to be messy and hard at times. You will make mistakes. So will Jack."

Daniel pauses then adds, "I'm going to venture a guess that his mistakes will outweigh yours in both size and frequency. But still, you'll both make mistakes."

I smile weakly. "I suppose."

"It's OK, Sam. So long as you make each other happy most of the time, that's all anyone can hope for."

"I'm not happy right now," I admit. "Some of it is my dad. A lot of it is the stuff between Jack and me that's been sitting unresolved for far too long. Now is not exactly the greatest timing, once again, but we're overdue."

"Want Teal'c and me to give you guys some space? So you can talk?"

"No, during the day we're fine. We do most of our talking at night in the dark." I add with a little shrug, "Tradition."

"Euphemisms, Sam," he reminds before I go to far in my description but he puts an arm around me.


End file.
